Destinations / JOURNEYO ONE STANDS outside on the deckduring the ferry ride to the island.

A few passengers brave the whipping
rain and pop out briefly to take photos, but they quickly reappear inside, rubbing their hands
together, shaking off the cold. For most of us it’s been a long
journey to get this far, involving multiple trains, and it’s
quiet on board until an unusual sight appears next to the
port. An excited rustling breaks out as we near the pumpkin
— red and black, spotted, the size of a modest hut. There’s a
clear energy shift. Soon we’ll set foot on Naoshima.

NAOSHIMA

Located in Japan’s Seto Inland Sea, Naoshima is a small
island, only accessible by ferry, with about 3,000 full-time
residents and around a million visitors a year. They come,
from all over the world, for the art, and the 5. 5 square miles
of the island are loaded with it. The aforementioned pumpkin is the work of Japanese avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama;
another of Kusama’s pumpkins, a yellow one, is on the other
side of the island. Museums pepper the landscape, but the
Tadao Ando–designed Chichu Art Museum stands out the
most, despite being mostly underground. Built into a cliff-side, it has natural light entering between slats of concrete
in the subterranean hallways. Ando’s concrete is a thing of
wonder, somehow at once brutalist and not intimidating.
Inside this futuristic bunker, vast, cavernous spaces contain
permanent works by contemporary masters James Turrell
and Walter De Maria, as well as a number of Claude Monet’s
“Water Lilies.” Taking photos of anything — even the gift
shop — is very tempting but strictly prohibited; still, a quick
Instagram search reveals illicit snaps by less obedient types.

But Ando’s design work also appears elsewhere on the
island, with less rigid photography rules. Benesse House,
which is both a hotel and a museum, is one, and it happens
to be where we’re staying. Following the concept of “coex-istence among nature, architecture, and art,” the museum
and its buildings feature art not only inside galleries but
throughout the guest rooms and outdoor spaces. The four
guest areas — Museum, Oval, Park and Beach — contain
varying numbers of rooms plus a restaurant, cafe, spa and
shop that are open to the public.

To access our room in the Oval, we must board yetanother vehicle. “You push Up or Down, just like an eleva-tor,” explains Emi, one of Benesse House’s staff members,as she hails the minty green funicular to take us up. Theoversize, boxy Lego-like vehicle whirs softly as it movesdown the hill, arriving several minutes later. We board andtry to act cool for a few seconds, but as the panoramic viewbegins to reveal itself during the slow ascent, Emi smiles andgives a knowing nod. We read this cue and the photo frenzybegins. Like a couple of pent-up cats, we start running up tothe windows, snapping pictures of the surrounding islands,bays, distant bridges and the shrinking museum below. Howmany of these photos are actually viable? Zero. Takeaway:next time, sit back and enjoy the ride.

Emi leads us through a glass tunnel to the Oval, a — you
guessed it — oval-shaped structure. It’s hollow with a rock-filled reflecting pool in the middle; surrounding walls are a
mottled turquoise and there is no ceiling, just a gaping oval-shaped void. The over whelming vibe is so sci-fi that during
our stay I feel more than once like I’m in the movie Contact.
Entrances to the six guest rooms are located around the
reflection pool, as is the door to the lounge, where, unlike
in all other parts of Benesse House, only Oval guests are
allowed, except for some weekend nights when visitors can
come enjoy drinks. Our room is spacious even by American
standards, with floor-to-ceiling windows, artwork by
Richard Long on the walls, and no electronic devices in
sight. Our key is also simple: not a card but a physical key
on a chain attached to a carved wooden block. In fact, the
most advanced piece of technology in the entire space is
the toilet, which per Japanese standards is a bidet, a Toto
Washlet with multiple modes and settings. By the end of our
journey I grow accustomed to this throne and bitterly accept
its stateside counterpart on my return.

We dine on site both morning and evening. For dinner we
wander down an illuminated path to the Terrace Restaurant,
which serves French cuisine; breakfast, at the Museum
Restaurant Issen, features seasonal ingredients from the
nearby Setouchi region with two menu options: Japanese
or Western. Throughout this trip I choose Japanese (and
am glad, after seeing other diners’ slabs of plain white toast
and lumpy scrambled eggs); the meal arrives with a detailed
color drawing explaining almost every one of the 10-or-so
items in detail: “Organic rice that was made at Sado island
(Niigata prefecture), tofu of our own making (the best way
to bring out the sesame flavor), steamed Chawan mushi egg
custard.” Even with English translations, I am still mostly
at a loss about what I am about to consume; there is fish that
looks and smells like salmon, and a bowl with small pieces
of what I assume is kimchi. I eat it all and it’s absolutely delicious. I would be remiss not to mention that I ingested this
heavenly mystery food with a Warhol painting behind me,
but these things are taken for granted when you’ve spent
some time on Naoshima.